


You Me

by A_leeks



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: (first chapter only) - Freeform, Age Difference, Both Robins are gay and lonely, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Female Robin uses an alias, Gay Loneliness, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Male Robin is canon Robin, Rating May Change, Robin Twins, They both have the same name and it's confusing, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 12:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16326659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_leeks/pseuds/A_leeks
Summary: An unexpected, definitely odd comrade joins them on Carrion Isle and Robin fears his past might be catching up to him too fast for him to properly recover and form a plan.The image it paints is ugly, and frightening, and if only this stranger carrying all his lost memories could justgo away.-Joining her brother in his mad quest was never part of Robin's plan, but what do you know. Is there anything else for her to do than wait for her inevitable demise by his hand?





	You Me

**Author's Note:**

> I love both Male and Female Robin and I love stories about family and sibling bonds and gay loneliness. And that's how this was born. :^)

“Ruth!”

The middle-aged woman turns around and her ashen blond hair flows over her face, she huffs and shakes her head as an effort to push it away, making Robin laugh as she closes the distance between them.

“Malcolm wanted me to tell you he has harvested the grapes, you can go fetch them anytime.” She informs the older woman as she watches her shrug a shoulder to push her hair back over it.

“Ah, good!” Ruth exclaims while readjusting the laundry basket in her arms. “Sounds like we will be getting plenty of wine this year.”

“Indeed.” Robin agrees out of politeness. “Here, let me help you.” She offers, stepping forward with her hands outstretched to take the basket from Ruth.

“You are so sweet.” The older woman smiles at her and Robin laughs dismissively as she relieves her friend of her burden.

“Do you wish to come to my place tonight? It has been some time since we last met.”

They start walking together towards the wash house, under the sunny rays of the afternoon sky and the gentle summer breeze. Robin's hair flows wildly around her head, and Ruth is close enough she feels her long blond hair reach her face and gently caress her cheek. She smiles slyly. It has been some time indeed.

“Of course. You know me.”

Ruth does not answer, instead gives her this look Robin has seen many times before and has yet to grow tired of. The sun illuminates her skin and golden hair, the light catches on her eyelashes framing her squinted laughing eyes; Gods is she beautiful.

Robin smiles to herself for the rest of the road.

They reach the basin in silence and only start talking again once they get to work on cleaning the various clothes and sheets filling the basket. It is conversational, both of them throwing in one or two jokes as they rub the fabric, but Robin doesn't think it could get any better than this.

She is happy, she realises. And that makes it all worth it.

 

* * *

 

He is dreaming. It does not feel like it but he knows he is dreaming. His hand flashes and a loud, fizzling crack tears a hole in the silence. It echoes for way too long to be real. Yes. This is a dream-

_“This is not...”_

The man is wounded. Blood with no smell, feelings are terrible. Excitement, disappointment. Anguish, jubilation. Satisfaction, regret.

_“... Your fault.”_

He killed the man. His hand bears no trace of any red liquid so precious to Life, it only crackles with electricity, the same kind that pierces the man's abdomen.

He wants to grin madly but he can't. He thinks he wants to cry too, but the feeling is blurry and unrecognisable. Has he ever cried? Suddenly he cannot remember.

_"Promise me, you'll leave this place."_

The man is shaking, unsteady on his feet and looking straight at him, but suddenly it is not him anymore and he becomes non-existent, witnessing the scene from the outside.

_"Just... Go..."_ The man whispers and falls heavily on the ground, he is himself for a second as he watches the body at his feet and a second later he is spit out again as he sees the hooded man crawl towards the one he just killed. A loud, maniacal laugh resounds and he watches himself, his mouth twisted upward yet looking so tortured, fat tears streaming on his face.

Time is upset, and goes back on a whim. He has a body, and he is fighting. A man in a white cape is on his side, and in a quick twist brings down his sword on their foe. His father falls on his knees and he throws one more spell his way, dark magic this time because Chrom is facing away and he will never know, once he will be done with him.

Chrom turns to him, sweaty and hair falling flat on his temples with a big smile on his face. He has seen this face million times before, it is redundant. He cannot wait to see what kind of expression it will make when he will drive his sword into this beautiful man's heart.

_"This isn't over!"_ A distorted voice shouts and they both turn urgently towards the sound. A dark purple wave of energy has been shot out, heading straight for Chrom.

Thoughts fly left and right inside his head, _if this is how Chrom dies_ \- The shepherds will continue to trust him blindly- _But!_ It has been so long already! _He can't let Chrom die but_ \- Chrom needs to die anyway, but _he's waited so long!_ It can't end like this, he will never see- _never see his eyes shine bright with shock_ , Chrom is so precious when he cries, can't he see him cry one last time? _No_ , he cannot let his detestable father take that away from him. _He_ gets to choose how this _ends_.

His thoughts are too slow, decision hasn't been made and the spell is on them. Chrom will die. He rushes towards him with a completely blank mind and pushes him out of harm's way, taking the hit instead. As he falls and his head painfully hit the ground, he revels at how good his act is. He saved Chrom without thinking, what a feat!

The man in question runs to him and helps lift him of the ground. He looks at him worriedly, _"are you alright?"_ and of course he is, because he is Grima's most powerful and dedicated servant. And Chrom smiles at him as if he weren't either of those things. He itches to kill him and be done with it.

His head hurts. Life is so deliciously complicated.

Chrom is worried again the second he sees him clutch his head and his body shakes with the effort it takes not to laugh uncontrollably. Chrom asks him what is going on, _I_ _'m going to kill you_ crosses his mind and it is almost too much. The anticipation makes him nauseous, he wants this so much he cannot form a coherent thought, cannot remember how he had planned to do it. He raises his head for half a second and Chrom's creased forehead is all he sees. _Worry, worry worry worry_ this is all he will ever get.

It is too much. His hand flashes and a loud crackling sound resonates in the room.

It is heartbreak he wants to see, _shock_ and betrayal, _tears_ \- _when will he cry again?_

He retreats his hand and Chrom looks at him with wide eyes. It is almost enough. He looks in pain, and it is almost enough. _This is not your fault_ he says, and – the words make _no sense_. Why isn’t he shocked? Where is the desperation? The bottomless sorrow in knowing he was wrong all this time? Robin feels angry tears threatening to fall. Why is this idiot _still_ acting as if Robin is on his side?

Chrom’s purple brand on his shoulder is clearly visible, and even through the cloth of his glove Robin feels his own burn. They were destined to be pitted against each other, only one was to remain alive by the end and for the first time, Robin is upset at how completely devoted Chrom is to him. The tenderness in those blue eyes is the last thing he wanted to see; it speaks of possibilities left unexplored, of too-soon ruled out strategies. Had they spoken- had he told him, no- but…

Could Naga’s chosen have been on his side, had he aimed for this outcome instead of stubbornly pursuing a rivalry he thought inevitable?

Chrom’s face softens, and he asks him to promise to leave this place. _Worry worry worry_ fucking _worry_ again! There is no heartbreak. Except for his own, because Chrom isn't playing the part. He has been his main character for the whole play, doing and saying everything Robin wanted him to, exceeding his expectations even; and now the ending is _wasted_.

He falls, so undignified, and Robin doesn't move.

 

* * *

 

Robin waits for her breathing to settle as the sweat on her naked thighs start cooling. Ruth is lying on her side next to her and Robin twists her head to meet her eyes. They smile at each other lazily. The night is warm with just the right amount of north wind to cool the atmosphere, it permeates the little house and its clay walls, giving Robin goose bumps.

“Give me a minute and I’ll return the favour.” She whispers as she leans closer.

Ruth smiles and closes the distance between them to give her a quick peck on the lips before she straightens up to sit. “Don’t bother.”

Robin watches her stand up and walk to the wooden chair in the corner where her clothes were discarded earlier. “Am I that bad of a lover?” She asks dramatically with a smile as she props herself up on her elbows.

Ruth lets out a chuckle as she pulls her worn white shirt on. “Or are you that good?”

Robin laughs and lets her head fall back on Ruth’s straw mattress. The chirping and buzzing of the insects outside are coupled with the rustling of clothes and it makes for a soothing and almost domestic atmosphere.

“Seriously love, not that I don’t wish I could keep you here to myself all night, but Oswald will be back soon.” Ruth speaks as she puts her pants back on.

Robin’s heart does this thing again, as if it was too big for her chest and needed to shrink several sizes smaller. Her breathing stays perfectly regular as she keeps quiet and only listens to the sounds of nature from outside.

“Mayla…” Ruth calls and of course it is the wrong name. “Believe me, I don’t like this any more than you do but you need to leave.”

“Do I?” Robin asks, tone a little provocative. “I need to get dressed, I agree. But can’t you tell Oswald you invited me for the night? Malcolm snores impossibly loudly and Guy tosses and turns all night, you also think I need a break, don’t you?”

Ruth’s hair got caught in the collar of her shirt and she pulls it out with one sweep of her arm, sighing all the while. “Had I invited you, I should have notified Oswald beforehand.” She turns and gives Robin an apologetic smile. “Next time?”

Robin lowers her head and pushes herself up, “Alright, next time,” she yields.

Ruth walks up to her and Robin gives her a tight smile, still manifesting her disappointment. The older woman doesn’t say anything and kisses her gently, her eyes crinkled in silent affection. “Thank you.” She finally whispers.

Robin retrieves her clothes and gets dressed before she leaves Ruth and Oswald’s house, annoyed at the leftover throbbing of her crotch. Not that it wasn’t worth it – it always is, if Robin has to be honest – but not for the first time she leaves unsatisfied, wishing for something different from the occasional passionate encounters. She cannot ignore the longing in her heart, how much she craves intimacy, one different from the physical one she already shares with Ruth.

Ruth, who is a married woman.

Robin huffs at the night sky, irritated by her plaguing thoughts. Why does it matter? She already has more than she could have hoped for, it is enough.

She entertains the thought of letting Ruth in on her secrets, unveiling her real name, her past, her history.

Of course it will only ever stay a fantasy.

Robin knows she cannot afford to risk putting the villagers – her _friends_ , she realises – in danger. She can’t imagine what Rob would put them through if he knew what they meant to her. If he knew where to find her.

It is better this way.

She is happy this way.

She enters her own shack and is immediately greeted by Malcolm’s loud snoring. She holds back a sigh; no complaints. Robin walks to her bed stuck in the right corner, idly noticing Guy isn’t here. He and Evelyn have been seeing each other lately, they are probably enjoying a quiet moment together right now.

She frowns as she plops down on her mattress, her bitter thoughts having caught up to her once more. She already got her own quiet moment with someone special, it is _enough_.

She changes into her night clothes quickly, squirming around on her bed; once dressed she tosses and turns and punches her hay pillow into shape- only for her hand to brush against the familiar texture of parchment. She frowns and sits up, suddenly alert.

It isn’t very common for farmers to own parchment.

She slides her hand under her pillow, slowly pulling out a lone piece of paper folded in two. Her blood freezes in her veins as her eyes catch the name written in purple ink, cursive letters carefully arranged.

_Mayla_ , it mocks and she hears Rob’s little chuckle.

Purple ink is expensive, hard to get a hand on. She unfolds the paper, her fingers trembling slightly despite herself; only to be greeted by the same shape as the brand on her right hand, drawn in rich purple and staring at her with six eyes.

Ominous. A silent threat.

_‘I know where you hide.’_

It is just like him.

Robin knows him by heart, after spending eighteen years of her life with him. Rob is exceptionally smart, handy with a sword, even more with a tome, delves into black magic without a care in the world and bests just about anyone in anything related to strategic planning. All those traits, they have in common. The difference lies in how Rob doesn’t stop at anything to get what he wants, because he thinks the world dances to the rhythm he sets. It’s in how scarily good he is at playing mind games, charming everyone until they willingly eat out of his hand. It is in the special kind of joy he finds in stabbing them in the back then.

And more than once, Robin has thought that Rob wasn’t wrong to consider himself so highly.

He clearly has no match. In a battle of will, connections or power, Robin loses on all fronts. Because the difference lies in how she doesn’t have the will to fight, to charm or to dominate like he does.

Once again, he outdid her.

She is tired.

Robin stays unmoving, staring blankly at the wall while her thoughts float absently in her mind. Rob will obviously never leave her alone; the time she spent here was good, three years of honest work surrounded by decent people, it is better than the majority of her life experience. It might never get better than this.

She is right in the end, it is more than enough.

Robin stands up quietly and crosses the room as soundlessly as possible, sifting through their shared toolbox to retrieve a flask of water that she carries back to her bed and shoves under her pillow. She will leave tomorrow night. She will first need to investigate how Rob could have delivered his little message – he is good at what he does but hiding isn’t his forte – and maybe get a clue on his whereabouts. Next town is half a day away, the flask can last three to four days depending, food won’t be needed as much, it will be fine.

She will go straight to him.

 

* * *

 

A dark room, black magic coursing through his body and disrupting his flow, a tall figure falling on its knees. A smile, a spell, a hand reaching out. Hands on his shoulder, on his back- and lightning. His palm buzzing, the back of his hand burning.

_“Chrom-”_

Chrom…

Blue eyes, purple brand, legendary sword clattering to the ground.

His body collapses and everything fades to black.

_“-we have to do something.”_

The darkness swallows it all, every last glimpse, and Robin opens his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> And so it all begins.  
> Tell me if you spot any mistake please ^o^


End file.
